


Nothing

by LynyrdLionheart



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: F/M, Post-Book 2: The Wicked King
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-20 16:45:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18529063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynyrdLionheart/pseuds/LynyrdLionheart
Summary: Jude is the Queen of Nothing.  She's living in the mortal world.  She got a shitty job as a barista.  She's trying to move on.And then Cardan has to show his stupidly attractive face and mess everything up.





	Nothing

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be crack based off the idea of Jude deciding to stay with Vivienne and Oak in the mortal world, because it turns out she likes wifi. Instead it became 7K that is actually mostly serious.

_So he’s good at ice skating now?_

Jude contemplated the cartoon, and wondered if she maybe should have paid more attention to it.  Somewhere in the back of the house, something crashed, and she wondered if Oak had broken another plate.  When she didn’t immediately hear Vivi rushing towards the sound, she shrugged and levered herself off the couch.

              Leaving the cartoon to play out to its end, she wandered into the kitchen.  Her brother stood on a stool, staring down at the floor.  Not a plate; this time it was a glass.

              “Don’t move,” she ordered, pointing a finger at her brother.  “Let me get a broom.”

              Within moments, the mess was cleared off and Oak was sent off with warnings to be more careful.  They both knew he wouldn’t be, but he smiled at her and ran off without actually promising anything, and all Jude could think was _faeries._

Of course, that made her think of one particular Faerie, with his dark eyes and dark hair, and that odd smile he had worn, when he had banished her and let his people think her a fool.

              Then again, wasn’t she one?

              She had taken a Faerie at his word, and instead of being content with the power she’d had in hand, she had let herself reach for more, only to come away with nothing at all.

              There was probably a lesson to be learned in that, but Jude was still too angry to search for it.

              She grabbed a coffee mug and shoved it into the Keurig, hitting the brew button hard into that it almost slid off the counter.  The action made the ring on her finger glint, and Jude froze, staring at it.  The light caught on the ruby and seemed to mock her.

              _Queen of Faerie.  Queen of Nothing._

She tugged at it, until it slipped free of her finger and sent it flying across the room.  It hit the wall and then tumbled to the floor, and Jude watched it until it rolled out of sight beneath the table.  By that time, her coffee had finished brewing, and she grabbed it by the handle, drinking it black like she had that night with Roach. 

              She’d developed a bit of a taste for it like that.

              She tapped her fingers on the counter and looked around for something, _anything_ , to distract her from thoughts of Faerie and betrayal and her _husband_.

              _Who even wanted a husband anyway?  They were clearly useless._

Her gaze darted towards the table, where the ring had disappeared, and she forced herself to look away again.  To look anywhere else.

              But the table kept drawing her eye.

              She felt humiliated, as she went to it and knelt down, feeling around until her fingers contacted metal and she was able to slide the ring back to her.  She stood and stared at where it rested in her palm. 

              Defiantly, she slid it back on.  It was stupid, to act like it was a _real_ wedding ring anyways.  He had stolen it from her, after all.  It had always belonged to Jude.  She was wearing her own jewelry, and Cardan had nothing to do with it.

              Feeling almost righteous, she grabbed her mug again, and returned with it to the couch.  This time, she was going to pay attention to the figure skating cartoon.  She would _know_ if he was a good skater or not.  And maybe she’d order a pizza, too.  Oak loved pizza.

              Jude just kind of loved delivery. 

\---

              She had received a letter from Madoc, done up with a seal and calligraphy and everything, and she wasn’t entirely sure how it had gotten there.

              But it had been a month since she had been banished, and she had decided that she shouldn’t care anyway.

              How many times had Vivi told her she could be happy with the humans?  Hadn’t Heather said the same thing, too?  That Jude didn’t _need_ stay amongst the Faeries and their machinations and life threatening tricks and stupid attractive faces that made her want to kiss them, even though she should be punching them.

              Okay, maybe that last was too specific to a certain Faerie… but she didn’t need him either.  After all, it had been a month and _he_ hadn’t sent her a fancy envelope with a crest.  No, he had just banished her, and if Jude ever saw him again, she was going to cut his throat out.        

_You have one solution to every problem._ Murder. _No key fits every lock._

His voice was an echo in the back of her mind, and how was it that she could recollect how his voice sounded so perfectly?  How she could remember the stern look on his face, down to the last detail.  Weren’t humans supposed to forget about the Faeries the longer they were away from them?  Jude was positive she had read that on a Wikipedia page.

              She nudged the letter, which she had tossed onto the coffee table two days previous without opening it, with her toe.  Could Faeries create curses?  The Wikipedia page hinted towards it, but most of that page was so off base that Jude had actually laughed while reading it.  Then she’d considered getting an account so she could edit it. It would serve them right – Cardan and Madoc both – for her to update a page anyone could read with all their deepest, darkest secrets.

              Maybe no one would believe it, but they’d still _know_.

              “Are you going to open that, or just stare at it?” Vivi came to join her on the couch.  She handed Jude a mug of coffee, and then sipped on her own.  Jude caught the scent of chocolate, and wondered what sort of hellish concoction her sister was trying this time.

              Vivi liked her coffee sweet, and she liked to experiment.  Two things Jude didn’t understand.

              “I’m considering burning it,” Jude replied.  “I read online that it can be cathartic, to get rid of the things that belong to the people you need to cut out of your life.”

              “Oh, Christ, you’ve fallen into the self help pit.” Vivi eyed her over the top of her mug.  “Please tell me you haven’t started watching cat videos for hours at a time.”

              Jude sniffed and sipped from her mug, turning the tv up.  It was still the figure skating cartoon, but Jude had figured out that the main character began the series with a minor break down over his dead dog, and would later be coached by his childhood idol. Who he then fell in love with.

              It was all very romantic and easy to watch, and Jude knew she might be developing unhealthy habits, but did Vivi have to look at her like _that_.

              It was so judgmental.

              “Okay, that’s it.  We’re going out!” Vivi patted Jude’s knee and then got to her feet, yelling into the house.  “Oak, come down, we’re going to the park!”

              “What’s at the park?” Jude asked, scrambling to her feet.  Because sure, she could try and fight Vivi… but that took effort, and fresh air probably wasn’t a bad idea at this point. 

              “For Oak and I?  Fresh air and a play park.  For you? Park yoga.”

\---

              “Vivi, have you seen my boots? Ah, never mind.  They’re over here!”

              Vivi stared at her from where he sat next to Oak, watching some cartoon.  Not the figure skater one, although Jude had moved on from that, and was instead working on some comedy about a host club now.  It was stupid, but in a fun way.  But they weren’t watching that, either.

              It was some kid’s cartoon.  One of the ones that Oak adored.

              “Where are you going?” Vivi asked, while Oak just stared at her over the back of the couch.  He reminded her of Cardan in a way, and Jude tried not to wonder, when anger had turned into a pang in the vicinity of her chest that she should _not_ be feeling for the man that had betrayed her.

              _You betrayed him first._

She didn’t want to think about that, either.

              “I got a job.”

              “A job?” Vivi repeated, while Oak shoved some of his cereal into his mouth, and the similarity to Cardan, thankfully, vanished.  “How did you do that?”

              “I applied,” Jude replied.  And she’d lied on her resume, and used Heather as a reference, but she wasn’t going to tell Vivi that.  Heather still wasn’t talking to her, and she didn’t want to explain to her sister that sometimes, after experiencing Faerie, humans just needed to talk to someone else who had experienced it as well.

              For Jude and Heather, that was each other.

              The job wasn’t anything fancy.  But Jude had developed a bit of a caffeine addiction since arriving on Vivi’s doorstep, and the café that had the strongest coffee in town had been hiring, and it had been kismet.

              So she had lied and gotten the job, because baristas also got free coffee during their shifts, and her addiction was starting to become a bit expensive.

              “So… this is a thing, then?” Vivi asked ask Jude laced her boots and grabbed her keys, and the cellphone that they had gotten for her two days ago.  She’d be able to pay for it herself, now, which would be good.  The thought of being entirely reliant on Vivi and her less than legal methods had grated – not because of Jude’s questionable sense of morality, but because it meant relying on anyone but herself.  “You’re… really going to stay here?”

              “I thought you wanted me to,” Jude replied, her hand hovering over the doorknob, as she looked back at Vivi with a frown.  “I mean, how many times did you tell me that I could make a life for myself here?”

              “I… I… I guess I just never thought that you’d _want_ to,” Vivi admitted at last, running a hand over Oak’s hair.  The boy was watching them with wide, curious eyes.  “You were just so determined to play the games of the Faeries, that I guess I never thought you’d leave.”

              _I didn’t have a choice, did I?_

But that was bitter, and left a foul taste on her tongue, and Vivi and Oak didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end.  No, the people – _the man_ – who her ire were target at were out of her reach.  So Jude pasted on a smile that she hoped passed for almost happy, and opened the door.

              “I didn’t realize how great Netflix was then.  How can the High Court compare?”

              The door shut behind her, with just a bit more force than Jude had intended, before Vivi could respond.

\---

              It had been three months – _ninety days_ – since Jude had been exiled when there was a knock on the door.

              It was evening, on a Friday, and she had the house to herself thanks to a birthday party.  Vivi had drawn the short straw, and so was the one who went with Oak, to make sure that he behaved himself, and knew not to use his powers on the humans.  It was his first sleepover, and everyone was a little nervous.

              Vivi was going out afterwards, so Jude had decided that she would order in delivery, and eat pizza on the couch while rewatching anime and wallowing.

              She didn’t allow herself to wallow much, these days. She had _earned_ this wallow.

              And now someone was interrupting her by knocking.  Which was ridiculous.  No one came to their house – at least no one she wanted to talk to.  Heather avoided the place, and Vivi’s friends would be out with her later on.  It seemed late for Girl Scouts, the one thing she might be willing to open the door for, so she decided to ignore it.

              She scowled at her ring, and the way it caught the light from the tv, and sunk as far into the couch as she could.  She should throw it away.  Cardan had ruined it for her, and now she felt stupid when she wore it, even when she tried to claim it had been hers to begin with.

              She should put it on another finger.  That’s what she should do.

              The sound of the front door had her leaping to her feet, reaching for a knife that wasn’t there.  Vivi had made her lock them away in her bedroom, where Oak wouldn’t find them, and apparently Jude had grown complacent, because she hadn’t even thought of trying to smuggle one into the den with her, like she had for the first six weeks.

              But there was a baseball bat.  It was small – made for a boy Oak’s size – but it could still do some damage.  And Jude held it firmly as she stepped towards the door, trying to keep her steps quiet.

              A body moved, and Jude leapt at it with the baseball bat.  Arms flailed up, and with a quick flick of her wrist, Jude had a light on, illuminating the intruder she held at basesball bat point.

              “Hello, Wife,” Cardan said with that irritatingly attractive grin.

              Jude swung the bat, and brought it into his ribs with the most satisfying thump she’d ever heard.  Even more satisfying was the howl of pain he gave in response.

\---

              She returned to the front hall ten minutes after hitting Cardan with the bat, to see that he was no longer lying on the floor.  Instead, he sat, his back to the wall, and glared at her when she stepped into his line of sight.  She had a mug of hot chocolate cupped between her hands; she knew better than to drink coffee this late in the evening, although it had taken her a few rounds of mistakes before she learned the lesson. 

              She didn’t say a word, just watched him silently over the edge of the mug, taking sips every now and then.  Slowly, his scowl faded, replaced by an unreadable expression.  Jude wasn’t sure that she cared for that; it was a reminder, of how he had managed to fool her.

              A reminder of how he had, somehow, managed to change so much that she had given him blind trust, when she had known better.

              “What are you doing here?” he finally asked, levering himself up to his feet.  Jude watched the way he moved with a contemplative expression, but while he rubbed his ribs, he seemed to be moving around easily enough.  It wasn’t all that surprising; she’d pulled her hit a bit, and the bat wasn’t nearly as heavy duty as the adult version.

              “I live here,” Jude replied, after a long enough pause that Cardan was looking somewhat awkward.  Good.  He should feel awkward.  He was the bastard in this situation.  “Because you exiled me.  From the place where I was kidnapped to after the brutal murder of my parents.  I think I’m developing issues, honestly.”

              She might have read a couple of self-help books, mostly because they seemed to be _everywhere_ – at the doctor, at job interviews.  Just… _everywhere_.  So she had picked them up, and a couple things had resonated.  Admittedly, there was nothing in them about what to do if you were a murderer, but if she ignored that aspect of who she was, things resonated. 

              “You _live_ here?” Cardan demanded, a layer of shock in his voice that he obviously tried to hide.  It was comforting, to see that he wasn’t perfect at hiding what he was thinking.  Not yet.  “After everything, you’re just, what? _Giving up_?  That isn’t you.  I expected a knife at my throat weeks ago!  And now you say you _live here_?”

              The disbelief that layered his voice by the end of his little rant made Jude grit her teeth.  Why was he acting as though she had personally insulted him somehow?  He had _exiled_ her.  She remembered it, vividly.

              It sometimes felt that the nights she didn’t dream about his lips, she dreamt about that moment, when she had been surrounded by laughter, and realized that he had played the biggest joke of all on her. 

              “Yes, Cardan,” Jude replied, and she loathed the way her shoulders fell, the way she suddenly felt so damn _defeated_.  “I live here now. Congratulations, you win.  I’m sure Nicasia eagerly awaits you to celebrate.”

              She walked away from him, grabbing a slice from the pizza box and shoving half of it into her mouth.  She clicked through the menu on the anime app she had convinced Vivi to get about a month ago, until she found the figure skating one. 

              She wanted comfort right now. 

              “I came here expecting to find a _Queen_.  Admittedly, one that wanted my head, but still a Queen.  This sad creature… who _are_ you?”

              Jude scowled up at Cardan, who loomed over where she had reclined on the couch.  Apparently the bat to his ribs hadn’t done that much damage, because he didn’t seem to be struggling to move all that much now. 

              She should have hit him harder.

              “I’m Jude Duarte, Barista,” Jude replied, forcing a smile onto her lips.  The next bite she took out of her pizza was hard and vicious, and Cardan actually recoiled just a little, as though worried she’d take a bite from him next.

              Cardan strolled casually around the couch, so he could knock open the pizza box, eyeing it with a raised brow.  He was clearly trying to hide the way he’d reacted to her just moments before, and Jude wanted to snort in derision.  Wasn’t this just like them?  Always trying to pretend around each other.

              Always _lying_ to each other.

              _He can’t lie_ , whispered that insidious voice in the back of her mind.

              And that was true.  He couldn’t lie to her – not directly.  But that hadn’t really stopped him in the end, had it?  He’d still managed to fool her.

              Stupid, stupid girl.

              “You eat this?” he asked, having taken a piece and taken a nibble of the edge, his nose crinkling in distaste.

              “Pizza is delicious.  You just have no taste,” Jude replied, her voice and body language entirely surly.  She still didn’t know why he was there, but she wasn’t going to ask. Instead, she tried to focus her attention around him, and watch her cartoon again, ignoring how he snooped through the contents of the coffee table, beneath the pizza box.

              He froze suddenly, his fingers hovering over something, and Jude couldn’t help but look at what had gotten a reaction out of him.

              Madoc’s letter, left there unopened to rot.

              “What is _this_?” Cardan demanded, letter in hand, his eyes flashing with rage.  Or maybe it was hurt.

              That was stupid.  Why should Cardan be hurt by anything Jude did?  He’d made his opinion of her infinitely clear, hadn’t he?

              “A letter from Madoc,” Jude replied shortly.  Her fingers itched to wrench it from his grasp, but no.  She didn’t play those games anymore.  She was a citizen of the human realms; politics were no longer her area.  “You can have it.”

              He flipped it over, and froze again when he realized the seal was untouched.  Jude could feel his gaze boring into her, as if he thought that, if he stared long enough, he’d get whatever answers he had come for. 

              “It’s getting late,” she said abruptly, because she wasn’t going to be able to ignore him – when had she _ever_ been able to ignore him?  So instead, she would remove the problem entirely.  “I’m going to bed.  Don’t worry, I’m not going to show up and upend your rule by revealing your human Queen.  I’m pretty clear on what trying that gets me.”

              She pushed herself off the couch, and ignored the pizza.  It was a waste of money, of course, leaving it like that, but she couldn’t stay in his presence anymore.  Not when there was that maelstrom of hatred and attraction that had made up most of their emotions, only multiplied by multitudes, because she hated him for what he’d done, even as it made him infinitely more attractive… _because he had gotten one over on her._

He had played the games that Jude had dove into, and he had played them _well_ , and with him right there, Jude couldn’t deny that she wished he had made the decision to play those games _with_ her, instead of against her.

              She fell onto her bed, and stared at the ceiling.  It was fifteen minutes, before she heard the footsteps cross the floor downstairs, and then the quiet opening and closing of the front door.  She should go down, and lock up behind him.  But instead, she just curled onto her side, and buried her face into her pillow.

              Damn him.

\---

              “Hello, what can I – you can’t be here.”

              Cardan glanced around, took brief notice of the looks being shot his way, and then raised an imperial brow at her.

              “Odd.  It appears I _am_ here.”

              Jude looked around the tiny café, and just barely bit back a particularly vile series of curses that she’d once heard Vivi use when she had stubbed her toe.  Her co-worker, Mel, was giving her the side eye as she handed a latte off to another customer. 

              “I need to take my break,” Jude said to her, tugging off the apron that made up her uniform. 

              “Okay,” Mel replied after another look between Jude and Cardan.  “Fifteen minutes.  The next rush will start before too long, and I’m not dealing with it alone.”

              Jude gave a nod, and then tugged Cardan out the door, to sit at one of the little tables on the “patio,” which was really just a sectioned off portion of the sidewalk.  She perched on her chair and motioned for him to take the one across from her.  The look of distaste on his face was almost worth having to deal with him at all.

              Almost.

              “Shouldn’t you be back, ruling your kingdom?” she demanded, when he finally sat as well, with heavy, put upon sigh and a glare that said he blamed her for whatever insult he had decided the chair had delivered to him.  “After all, isn’t that what you want now? To rule and be king without any strings attached?  You _won_ , Cardan.  Stop being…”

              _A brat and rubbing it in_ , she wanted to say, except that it was entirely in character for Cardan to do _exactly_ that – and could Jude blame him? Hadn’t she taken her own sick bit of glee, knowing that she controlled him and, by extension, the throne?

              Since coming to live with Vivi, Jude had started to read the myths of various countries and cultures.  When she gotten to the story of Icarus, she’d had to stop when it became clear what was going to happen.  The lesson to be learned had hit far too close to home.

              It was Jude’s own fault that her wings had melted, but did that mean that she had to let Cardan come and torment her with that knowledge?

              “You won,” she finally said at last, refusing to look at him.  She felt so, so tired. Seventeen, and she already felt as though she’d lived a hundred lives, and just wanted to be allowed to _rest_. 

              Cardan sighed again, and then she felt his fingers on her chin, turning her head so that she was looking directly into his eyes.  She had looked into them when they had spoken their vows as well, the ones that tied them in a marriage that might as well not exist.  At the time, she’d been… _hopeful_.  She had decided to take that leap of faith, to trust, and she would have _sworn_ that he had been genuine.

              “I didn’t have the opportunity to give you credit, did I?” she asked, grasping his wrist and forcing his hand away from her skin.  But she couldn’t bring herself to break the contact between them immediately, so she continued to look at him, and she kept her grip on him. 

              “Credit?” Cardan raised a brow, but he didn’t try to pull his arm away from her grip.  “What for?”

              “You’re a better actor than I ever realized.  You fooled me.” She finally forced her fingers to separate, to move away from his skin, and then clutched her hands together in her lap, so she wouldn’t be tempted to touch him again.  “I thought I had you figured out.  But it was the opposite, wasn’t it?  In the end, I didn’t know you at all, and you knew me entirely too well.”

              “Jude…” The way he said her name sounded almost pained, and in another life, another time, she might have believed that there was genuine regret in the way he looked at her.  But she wasn’t going to be a fool again – Icarus, flying too close to the sun. 

              “I don’t know why you’re here, what you want to get out of this… if you’re worried that I’m going to join with Madoc, don’t.  You have the letter, remember?  And I’m far too aware of what _his_ price would be, for me to join him.  I’m done.  I’ll live out my life here, among the other humans. It’s where I belong, right?” she wondered if the smile that twisted her lips looked as bitter as it felt.  “Besides – the wifi really is great.”

              “Jude-”

              “Jude, your fifteen minutes are up, and I need you to restock the chocolate syrup.”

              Cardan’s eyes flashed at Mel’s interruption, but Jude could feel nothing but relief.  He was a reminder of what she had, what she’d almost had, and what she’d ultimately lost.  A reminder of her ambition and where it had led her.

              And damn her, but even now, after everything, she still wanted to touch him – wanted him to touch _her_.  She’d once compared him to the addiction she’d developed to her poisons, but she had been wrong.  Because eventually the hunger for that mixture had gone away.  She didn’t think this cursed desire for _him_ ever would.

              So instead of a slow break, she would excise this infection entirely.  Once he was gone again, she could return to only thinking of him occasionally at night when she missed the land she’d come to think of as home.  And eventually, she’d stop doing that as well, once her ties to the mortal world became stronger than her ties to Faerie had ever been.

              She was still young.  It would happen, given time and distance.

              “I’m not giving up so easily, Jude,” Cardan said to her back.  Mel had retreated back inside, and Jude paused, her fingers gripping the door tightly.  “This isn’t over.”

              “I don’t even know what _this_ is,” Jude replied, her shoulders slumping as she kept her back to him. There was more to be said, but she had no idea what that more was, so instead she just retreated.

              Maybe that was what she was destined to do for the rest of her life.  Retreat, and retreat again, all because she had reached too high and let herself be fooled by a pretty face.

\---

              Cardan had waited.

              For ninety long days, he had sat on that throne and played his part, and waited for Jude, with her clever mind, to pick apart his words and rejoin him.  Oh, he fully expected her to come at him with claws out and a knife to his throat.

              He had been anticipating it, even.

              Instead, he had gotten nothing.

              Nothing but listening to Nicasia blather on and try to weasel her way back into his good graces, as if he hadn’t been playing a game of manipulation with someone far better at it than she for months.  As if he couldn’t see through her smiles, to the heart of her, which would always beat first for her mother, and then, perhaps, for him second.  If he still held appeal.

              He’d rather Jude’s sharp words and sharper blades.

              But ninety days had passed, and she had remained gone, and a very real fear had begun to set in.

              That she had gone to her father, and thrown herself on his mercy.

              She was meant to do that, ultimately, but not in earnest. She was supposed to come for Cardan, murderous intent in her eyes, and he would explain that they needed Madoc to believe her to be open to his manipulations and then, _finally_ working together, they would bring him down.

              There had been a slight chance, that she might go to Madoc immediately, but Cardan had weighed the chances and decided it unlikely.

              In none of his considerations had he ever contemplated _this_ , however.  That Jude would… give up?

              Simply roll over?

              Not _his_ Shadow Queen.

              Yet by all appearances, that was exactly what she had done.  Retreated to her sister’s home, gotten a job amongst the mortal middle class and… forgotten him?

              Attempted to, at least.

              When he had appeared on her doorstep he had thought, perhaps, that Madoc hadn’t reached out at all.  That the General hadn’t reacted as Cardan had predicted he would, and in doing so driven Jude back to Elfhame and his side. 

              But no, Madoc had served suitably predictable.  It was _Jude_ that had defied his expectations… and perhaps Cardan should have predicted that.  When had she ever made this _easy_?

              Perhaps he was to blame as well.  Perhaps he should have laid it all out to her, when he had offered her a shared crown.  But the realization that she had killed Balekin… it had been a sharp reminder that his Queen could lie.  That she _had_ lied – right to his face, on multiple occasions.  And while he hadn’t truly blamed her, part of him had wanted her to know that same pain that he had felt, when she had helped Oak place a crown on his head.

              And even more… part of him had wanted her to look at him and see a _partner_.  To see someone as clever and capable as she was.  He had wanted Jude, with her clever mind and incredible talent, to view him as an equal.

              And now he sat – a king without his queen, and Jude unwilling to hear him.

              He thought she might finally view him as an equal… but one she had no interest in partnering with.

              “You look kind of pathetic.”

              Cardan scowled as Vivi took a seat on the park bench next to him. He liked this park.  It was peaceful.  He never got peace, not anymore, and it left him loathe to leave this place where he’d finally found some.

              He would have to, though.  He couldn’t remain absent much longer, not with enemies everywhere, and Madoc actively plotting against him.  If he stayed much longer, he would find that he had lost the throne entirely.

              Not long ago, that wouldn’t have bothered him – he would have welcomed it, even.  Now… now…

              “I’m not in the mood, Vivienne,” he said, actively avoiding those cat eyes.  He’d always liked Vivienne – had felt that her devil-may-care attitude was closely aligned with his own.  And she had never seemed superior to him, not as Jude had seemed.  But now, she wasn’t at all the sister he wanted to see.  “I’m not here to bother Oak.”

              “Yeah, not the sibling I’m worried about when it comes to you.” He heard her shuffle on the bench, and a quick side eyed glance showed him that she apparently had no plans to leave any time soon.  “I thought you hated Jude.  You tormented her enough.”

              “Odd.  I didn’t think you were aware of anything that happened in Elfhame.  Not unless it affected you directly.”

              Vivienne didn’t say anything immediately, and Cardan felt a small, smug smirk curve his lips.  If she had thought he would be kind to her because they’d been somewhat friendly in the past… well, times changed.  And he was the King now.

              He had no need to be kind to anyone.  Not if he chose otherwise.

              “I’ve begun to realize that,” she said at last, and Cardan had to admit to some surprise at the sudden show of self-awareness.  That had never been Vivienne’s strong suit, after all.  “I’ve begun to realize a lot of things about that place, and how I acted while I was there.  And about the things I didn’t notice.  You loved to torment her when she was there, to try and drive her away… so why come and torment her here, too?  Didn’t you get exactly what you wanted?”

              “You made a valiant attempt at observing others,” Cardan said at last, trying to figure out a way to keep his own counsel that wouldn’t come too close to a lie.  “But you remain terrible at it.  I suppose you can continue to practice, but it will not be on me much longer.  I have to return soon.”

              “Cardan-”

              “Leave it, Vivienne.  It’s between Jude and I. Keep out of it.”

              She finally stood, and he nearly let out a breath of relief.  But rather than immediately walk away, she came to stand in front of him, drawing his eyes up to her own at last. 

              “Are you in love with my sister?” She demanded, and as if remembering right after that she had _two_ sisters, the damn woman had to qualify, “Jude, I mean.  Are you in love with Jude?”

              “Why would you ever think that?” Cardan asked, with the carefully blank expression that he was becoming increasingly talented at dawning.

              “That’s not a no,” Vivienne observed thoughtfully, her foot tapping at the ground lightly.  “She’s human, you know.”

              “I am aware.” Painfully so.

              “Hmmm,” was all the response he got, and then Vivienne left, as though she hadn’t asked a question that all but left him devastated.

              Because Cardan had been very careful not to label this thing, this feeling, that made him so determined to have Jude at his side.  He had thought of his desire for her, his appreciation for her clever mind, and refused to delve any deeper.

              And then Vivienne – careless, thoughtless Vivienne – had asked him the question so easily, as if the fact that he couldn’t say _no_ hadn’t left his world completely shaken.

              He buried his face in his hands and refused to look at the park that had lost all its peace.

\---

              “Why is there a bag packed in my room?”

              Jude leaned against the door to the kitchen, watching as Vivi got Oak his supper.  It looked like chicken fingers, and Jude hoped that she had made something else for their older, more mature tastes.

              She was kind of sick of chicken fingers.

              “Because, we both know you don’t want to be here,” Vivi replied, ruffling Oak’s hair with one hand, and pouring him some milk with the other.  “So I figured I’d be the big sister and kick you out.”

              “You can’t kick me out.  I’ve started to pay half the rent.”

              “My name is on the lease.  I can so kick you out.”

              “And where am I supposed to go?” Jude demanded, entering the kitchen to plant her hands on the island.  Oak watched the two of them with wide eyes, even as he shoved a chicken finger in his mouth.  It was sort of gross. They’d have to work on the concept of chewing with the mouth closed. 

              “Well, I figured you’d return to Elfhame.  Cardan is starting to act pretty sad over the whole thing.  It’s embarrassing, really.”

              “In case you forgot – _Cardan is the one who banished me_.  So screw his feelings.”

              “I envy you that, you know,” Vivi said, almost wistfully as she leaned against the island across from Jude.  “That ability to lie.  I wish I could say _screw Heather_ until I actually meant it.  But us Faeries… we don’t have that luxury.  He loves you.”

              “Cardan loves pissing me off and his own misery.  He’s not capable of loving another person.”

              “There you go, lying again.”

              Jude pressed her lips together and glared at her sister.  She didn’t want to hear this, not when Cardan was still there, a ghost, haunting her every thought.  Maybe in another three months she’d have forgotten how he made her feel enough to hear it. 

              She doubted it, but maybe. 

              “I’m tired,” she said at last, pushing away from the island again.  “And I’m done with this conversation.  If you don’t want me living here, fine.  I bet Heather would help me find a place.”

              The words were deliberate, and meant to hurt.  The way that Vivi stiffened, her eyes widened, made Jude feel a bitter sort of glee.  Then it was replaced by her own misery, because Vivi looked so _sad_ , and wasn’t she tired of hurting the people she cared about?

              “You talk to Heather?” Vivi asked, her voice small, and Jude swallowed, rubbing her arm.

              “She’s not ready,” she said after a moment.  “To talk to you.  Not yet.  But… I think she will be.  When she is, you need to be ready to listen, Vivi.  _Really_ listen.” Jude looked down, and then met her sisters gaze, giving her a small smile.  “She asks me about you, almost every time we talk.  You don’t do that, if you don’t care.”

              Vivi nodded after a moment, breaking their stare to look down at the countertop.

              “You’re always welcome here,” she said at last.  “You _know_ that.  But we both know you’re not happy here, Jude. And I said you could be, but I was wrong.  Because I didn’t listen.  I’m listening now.  Maybe… maybe you should listen too?”

              Jude shrugged and retreated to her room.

              She didn’t sleep at all that night, Vivi’s words on constant repeat in her mind.

\---

              The crown felt heavier even than usual.

              After the near peace of the mortal world, returning to Elfhame had been a harsh reminder that despite their inability to lie, his people were far less honest than the mortals.  He would find some exhilaration in that again, but for the moment he just felt tired.

              The Roach and The Bomb had given him their latest on the machinations of the court, and what they could determine of Madoc’s movements, and his time with them had been by far the best of his day, even if they’d had nothing particularly good to report.

              Now, he just wanted to sleep, and let his body fall, boneless, to his bed.

              He heard a soft step, and a shadow passed over him, and then something cold and sharp was pressed against his neck. 

              He opened his eyes, and they clashed with the brown that haunted him every time he closed his eyes.  He had only been back for three days, and already the dreams had begun again. Vivienne had been right.  He was pathetic.

              “What will you whisper to me this time?” he asked the dream Jude.  “What promises will you make me tonight, that will be broken come dawn?”

              “That’s creepy,” Jude replied after a beat of silence. “I mean, that is Dateline levels of creepy.”

              The Jude of his dreams had never once called him “creepy,” and Cardan had absolutely no idea what a Dateline was. 

              “Jude?” he asked after a moment, unable to keep his confusion from his voice.

              “You seem surprised to see me, _husband_ ,” Jude replied, and now it was like one of his dreams, where she gave him a smile as sharp as her knife, and called him _husband_ just like that.  “Weren’t you the one who invited me back? I suppose it’s not an actual pardon… but since I’m the crown as much as you, I guess I can always pardon myself.  That’s how you worded it, wasn’t it?”

              The knife cut in a little deeper, making actual pain flare, but Cardan didn’t care at all.  Because the pain, with the odd remark from earlier, all meant this was no dream.

              It was Jude, in his room, in his castle - in _their_ castle – exactly where she belonged. 

              “I want you to help me destroy your father,” Cardan said, the words he’d wanted to speak ever since she had left, and he’d awaited her return so they could finally get started.  Jude stared at him, and then, finally, pulled the still unopened letter from Madoc out of her shirt.

              “Okay,” she said at last.  “I guess we should start with this.”

              And that was probably when they should have begun to plot.  But Cardan had given up on her, and that had, of course, been when she had appeared.  And so he pulled her down, pressing his lips to hers, and he felt like a man drowning.

              He would never get used to the feel of her.  Or the taste.  Or the way she responded so eagerly, her hungry gasp lost against his lips and tongue. 

              “You pulled a dirty trick on me,” she muttered in between their kisses.

              “Like the one you pulled on me?” he responded, and they pulled back, staring at one another, and he wondered if his own eyes were as dark and stormy as hers. 

              “You’re not the spoiled idiot I assumed you were,” she admitted grudgingly, and Cardan laughed, because for the first time in… _ever_ , he thought he might be feeling something close to joy.

              “Help me destroy your father,” he said at last.  “Be my partner, Jude Duarte.  This place is tedious and boring with the Shadow Queen to bring it to life.”

              “And when that’s done?” she demanded, her fingers grasping at his hair, giving it a sharp little tug that made him want her more than anything.

              “Then be my Queen,” he replied.  “Until Oak can be King.  Or even longer.  And once that no longer appeals, just… be _mine_.”

              Her tongue darted out, licking her lips, and he thought he might have rendered her speechless.  Wasn’t that the most surprising turn of events?

              “Only if you’ll be mine,” she finally answered. 

              And then they didn’t speak at all.  Not for a long while.  Not until their lips were kiss swollen and they should have been falling asleep, both of them exhausted after long days.  But sleep didn’t happen either.

              The High King of Faerie and his Shadow Queen had a plot to create.


End file.
